


Whispers In The Locker Room ➳ Nouis (mpreg)

by queenouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Louis, Confused Liam, Confused Niall, Fluff, Football | Soccer, High School, Innocent Louis, Jock Liam, Jock Niall, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Louis, Niall Horan & Liam Payne Friendship, Niall Horan - Freeform, Nouis, Nouis Toran - Freeform, Nouis smut, One direction AU, Pregnant Louis, Shy Harry, Smut, Top Niall, Underage - Freeform, Young Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 13:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4350470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenouis/pseuds/queenouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To put it simply, Niall can’t accept the truth about his own sexuality. All he knows is that the short brunette on his football team, whose ass is just about the prettiest thing he's ever seen, is a lot more attractive than the cheerleaders he's been hooking up with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Everyone!  
> Just going to see how writing on ao3 goes for now, so I decided to upload one of my stories from Wattpad.  
> You can find me over there @queenouis  
> Hope you enjoy xx

**Chapter One**  


     

          The two teenage boys attempt to conceal their laughter as they crouch behind some school shrubbery, jabbing each other in the ribs with bony elbows and placing clammy hands to lips in an effort to keep themselves from becoming exposed. The younger of the two seems on the brink of giving up their cover, his face red from the effort of keeping quiet. The other lad shushes him, once again, adverting his gaze so he can watch the prank unravel in front of him.

  


Their English Literature teacher, Mrs. Davis, strides confidently to her brand new black Corvette, her high heels clinking annoyingly against the asphalt of Brighton Academy’s parking lot. She seems incredibly content with herself, energized by a day of handing out failing grades and writing referral slips for the disruptive boys in her class, two of which are about to watch their sneaky scheme unfold against her. 

  


They consider this a form of punishment for the pop quizes that their parents will have to sign and date later tonight.

  


A giggle leaves the youngest boy’s lips as Mrs. Davis reaches out to open her car door, grimacing when the slick substance on the handle enables her from performing the menial task. She keeps trying, getting frustrated as her fingers slip over and over again. Her fellow employees, none of which are too fond of the woman, pass by and chuckle into the creases of their elbows, making Mrs. Davis red with anger. 

  


You see, not only is Mrs. Davis considered an enemy to the many students at Brighton Academy, but to the teachers as well. She loves to rat people out for their simplest mistakes and slipups. The woman even had one of the most respected teachers fired for an incident in which help was given to a student while they were taking a test. It was highly uncalled for, but Mrs. Davis demanded that she get her way, like always.

  


That’s why this prank is so satisfying. The boys just wish that everyone Mrs. Davis has done wrong could witness it. The thought gives Niall the smart idea to use his phone to record the teacher’s struggle with her car.

  


“Damn it!” Mrs. Davis shouts, slowly gripping the door handle with both of her hands and attempting to quickly jerk the door open. It results in a sudden loss of balance and sends the teacher falling to her butt on the ground, the contents of her handbag spilling out everywhere.

  


The two pranksters lose their composure and burst out laughing, clutching their stomachs in pain. Payback is a real bitch. 

  


“Hey!” Mrs. Davis yells, practically fuming. “Who’s there?”

  


At this, the boys freeze, worry filling their bodies. This could possibly get them suspended from the academy, something their parents and coach wouldn’t appreciate too much. So, in order to keep from being caught, the boys leave the security of the bush they had taken refuge behind and begin racing to the school’s football field. Adrenaline courses through their veins as they hear Mrs. Davis shouting behind them, but they know she won’t catch them. There’s no way their plan could possibly fail now.

  


Upon reaching the football field, the boys sprint into the locker room, slowing down at the last minute and walking in with neutral looks on their faces in order to hide their giddiness. The coach would surely go crazy if he found out his players were being so immature before practice, and Niall and Liam know full well that their teammates are down right snitches when it comes to the importance of maintaining a good reputation around school.

  


“Aye, Horan!” This bloke, Kip, bellows, clapping Niall on the back as he’s passing by. The guy is older than Niall, bigger too, and incredibly touchy. “Better get dressed before coach makes ya’ run double.” Niall simply smiles in return, chuckling a bit as he nudges the guy’s shoulder. 

  


He lost Liam during the brief exchange but, after scanning the room, finds him bumming a pair of socks off of a random kid with curly hair. The poor guy looks terribly awkward as he hands Liam some blue nike socks, his hands shaking slightly. Must be a newbie, Niall thinks to himself. Makes sense considering it’s the beginning of the season.

  


“Oi! What did ya’ do to the poor lad, Liam?” Niall taunts, leaning against the lockers next to his friend. “He looks proper frighetend.”

  


Liam chuckles. “Nothing, mate. Promise.”

  


“Yeah, I’m sure.”

  


Niall then adverts his attention to the younger boy, smirking as the lad gulps and pushes his brown hair out of his eyes. He isn’t that intimidating of a person, is he?

  


“Hey,” Niall finally soothes because, honestly, the guy looks close to throwing up. “We aren’t here to harass you, mate.”

  


“Yeah!” Liam pipes up. “That’s Aaron’s job.” 

  


The newbie’s eyes widened and he looks around quickly, obviously not liking the sound of this ‘Aaron’ guy. Niall can’t blame him though; he himself was terrified of the guy until the middle of last year, when he found out that Aaron is actually just a big teddy bear. The team just makes him sound intimidating to strike some fear and discipline into the new players.

  


“Eh, don’t worry about him. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Liam punches Niall in the arm for the confession, shaking his head. “Say, what’s your name, kid?”

  


Niall flings his shirt off and takes a seat beside the bloke, pulling a training jersey out of his gym bag and putting it on. It’s wrinkled and creased due to lack of ironing, but he could care less. The only person that really minds the condition of his uniform is his mother, who didn’t have enough time to inspect his bag this morning, thank God.

  


“ ‘M names Harry,” The kid says, relaxing a bit. “Harry Styles.”

  


Niall nods his head and slips on some socks that reach the middle of his calves. Unlike Liam, he actually remembers to bring his necessities.

  


“Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m Niall, and this slag right here is Liam!” Niall jokes, slapping his best friend on the arse as he bends over to tie his shoes.

  


Liam stands up and glares at Niall, ruffling his hair a bit as the latter stares at him with mischievous blue eyes. It’s always been fun and games between the two of them, so the somewhat sexual joking doesn’t even come off as uncomfortable anymore. Of course, they’re both straight, so a little touching doesn’t phase either of them. They know the limits, and would never risk pushing them.

  


Completely unaware of the bond the two boys share, Harry clears his throat uncomfortably. The display makes him shift, but not for the reason you would expect.

  


“Are you too, um... you know, gay?” Harry asks. 

  


Liam and Niall look over at each other at the same time, expressionless. Niall is torn between laughing and gagging, but Liam just looks plain disturbed as his face takes on a pale white color. It’s pretty obvious that they aren’t attracted to each other.

  


“Christ no,” Niall speaks, laughing. “And even if I were, I don’t think Liam over here would really be my type.” The boy throws his arm over his best friend’s shoulder, receiving a nervous chuckle.

  


Liam’s always been pretty sensitive towards the subject. Having been adopted by two gay men, he has grown to be comfortable around homosexuals. The problem is, he isn’t one himself, but most people assume because of his two fathers. Liam likes to make sure that people understand he isn’t obligated to be into other men just because his parents are.

  


“Oh,” Harry says, blushing. “I just assumed because, you know.”

  


“No, mate.” Niall laughs. “We just joke around like that sometimes.” He then nudges Liam, silently asking him if he’s okay. “Right, Li?”

  


“Right— yeah.” Liam shies away from Niall’s touch, unnerved by the whole thing and leaving Niall and Harry to frown at how quickly the lad’s mood had changed.

  


“Boys!” A shout distracts the three lads, easing the tension. “I want you out on the field in no more than five minutes!” Coach Reynolds yells as he pokes his head into the locker room. “Whoever takes too long is gonna run five suicides.”

  


Collective groans echo throughout the room. Some boys rush to finish getting ready, while a lot of the new ones continue at a leisurely pace, apparently not believing they will receive consequences for not being on the field in time.

  


Niall knows better.

  


“Goddamn,” he mumbles, hurriedly tying his shoes and combing his blonde hair into submission with his fingers.

  


Last time he made the mistake of taking his precious time, Niall was left with running three extra suicides at the end of practice. That had been absolute torture. Running five isn’t something that he ever wants to have to endure.

  


When he’s finished, Niall jumps up and goes to run to the door, accidentally colliding into another guy as he’s turning the first corner of blue locker’s. The bloke’s hands come up to grip Niall’s shoulders to stabilize them both, their faces inches apart. Niall’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he stares into the other guy’s blue–green eyes, his heart beating quickly from the previous shock of almost breaking his nose on some random kid’s cheekbone, which just some happens to be one of the most defined ones that Niall’s ever seen.

  


“Woah!” Cheekbones speaks, a breathless chuckle escaping his lips. “You okay, mate?”

  


It takes Niall a minute to reply, once he completely gets over the initial shock of almost going into cardiac arrest. The poor guy doesn’t think he’s ever been more startled in his life.

  


“Yeah— yeah, I’m fine.”

  


“Good.” The guy smiles, holding out his hand for Niall to shake. “I’m Louis, by the way.”

  


The blonde looks down as their hands meet, realizing just how much larger his hands are than Louis’. Really everything about the other lad is tiny, Niall notices, observing their height differences. He has a good three inches on the lad, which is impressive considering how short Niall is.

  


“What’s your name?” The small boy giggles when Niall takes too long shaking his hand. He had been too busy looking Louis over to realize he had blanked out.

  


“Oh, sorry.” Niall retracts his hand, flushing. “Niall.”

  


“Nile, as in the river?” Louis asks, quirking an eyebrow.

  


The blonde laughs at that, shaking his head. This bloke sure is witty. He can already tell that they’re gonna be good friends. 

  


“No, N–I–A–L–L.”

  


“Oh, okay.” Louis says, smiling again. His eyes crinkle at the sides and it makes Niall want to grin as well. He doesn’t though, because it would look rather strange if they just stood there smiling at each other for no reason at all.

  


“Well, I’m gonna get outta here. Coach gets mad if we take too long.” Niall says, sidestepping his new acquaintance. “I’ll see you on the field.”

  


“Yeah, alright.” Louis agrees, making his way further into the locker room. “See you there.”

  


Niall turns his head one last time, feeling his breath catch in his throat as he takes note of Louis’ attire. The lad’s torso is adorned by a normal green and white Doncaster jersey but, instead of wearing the typical football shorts like all of the other boys, a pair of spandex bottoms cling to his very tan thighs. The outline of his bum— which is extremley impressive, might I add— is very prominent and pleasing to the eyes. Niall’s eyes, to be exact.

  


The blonde has to shake his head and turn away to keep himself from looking at the other lad’s backside like a creep. It’s not right for someone to stare at their teammates in such away. Besides, Niall is straight. He doesn’t like boys. Louis just has a nice butt, that’s all.

  


Niall makes sure to remind himself of these things during practice, which seems to drag on forever due to the constant presence of Louis and his glorious arse.

  


**Word Count: 2,020**  



	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**          

               After football practice, Niall is proper knackered. His calf and thigh muscles are aching from all of the running he and his teammates did, and his entire body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the speed at which his heart had accelerated. He groans in pain as Liam tugs the shoes off of his tired feet, not even wanting to _think_  about how sore and swollen his knee will be when he removes his brace for the showers.

The coach always works them extra hard the first week. It’s all part of some theory he’s developed over the years, which revolves around the idea that a tuff beginning leads to a strong, determined team effort. The students are meant to practice until their breathing is shaky and their limbs resemble jello, a ritual that is supposed to show the rookies that the sole moto of the team is ‘hard work makes for many wins.’

In Niall’s opinion, it’s all a big bunch of _bullshit_.

Being in his twelfth year of school, Niall doesn’t think it’s fair that he has to keep up such rigorous endurance to convince the younger years to play with determination. If you’re going to play football, you should already be willing to give your all. Seriousness is needed if you want your team to be the best, and Niall is very appreciative towards the boys who play their hardest. Players that are just hanging around to _goof off_ , well, they aren’t very high on the blonde’s list of respect.

And Niall made sure to watch the newbies very carefully during practice today, attempting to pick out the ones he knew would be hurtful to the group as a whole. Some would see this as a total prick-move considering every single member had tried out and earned his rightful place on the team, but Niall was simply looking for weaknesses.

Much to his surprise, the new students had played rather well. Some were a little clumsy on their feet, but Niall supposes it’s just the boys from year ten, who are more than likely still figuring out how to move around properly in their new, post–puberty bodies.

Niall has no room to judge; he had the same problem when _he_  first joined the team.

“Tough workout today, eh, Horan?” Kip suddenly asks, chuckling a little as he passes by the blonde on his way to the showers. He makes sure to let his hand linger on Niall’s shoulder for a couple seconds, and the smaller boy finds himself wondering, for just about the _hundredth_  time, why exactly the bloke likes to touch him so much.

“Yeah, I’m sweating bloody bullets.” Niall says, regardless, laughing briefly.

Kip joins in. “I feel you, man.”

 _More than necassary_ , Niall thinks to himself, rolling his eyes as the other lad turns the corner to the showers.

He likes Kip, he really does, but sometimes it seems as if Kip likes him a little _too_  much in return. Not that the fellow is _gay_ , just that he looks up to Niall with a strange sense of admiration and receives happiness from the slightest brush of their shoulders in the hallway.

It gets rather creepy, if Niall is completely honest.

“Reckon he’s obsessed with you, mate.” Liam jokes, nudging his best friend on the shoulder.

Niall scoffs. “ _No_ , you don’t say?”

The sarcasm in his voice is heavy, and Liam laughs.

“Quite sure, actully.”

He likes to push at Niall’s buttons a bit when the lad is tired from practice. It’s best to bugger him when he’s slightly cranky because that’s when Liam can get the best reaction out of him.

“You gonna tap it?” The brown–eyed boy asks, holding back a smile.

Niall shoots him a look, all humor drained from his face.

“Guess not, then.”

Before Niall can say anything smart or get a good smack at Liam’s head, Harry walks over and stops directly in front of them, a shy grin on his face. It’s obvious that he’s still a little nervous to hang around them, even though they’ve made it quite clear they don’t pose as a threat.

“You don’t always have to stand there like we’re gonna punch ya in the face, mate.” Niall snaps, lacing up his high tops.

Harry looks taken a back, his bottom lip held tight between two sets of pearly whites.

“Don’t mind him,” Liam says, elbowing Niall in the ribs. “He gets a bit snappy when he’s overworked.”

That earns him another glare.

“Oh, okay.” Harry says, shifting back and forth on his feet. “I, um, just came to get my socks. I mean, you can keep them if you'd like, I just don’t have that many pairs.”

The boy’s eyes watch intently as Liam sheds his jersey and shorts, leaving him in nothing but his fitted Topman briefs. Harry gulps as he takes in the older bloke’s abs and impressive V–line, features he can only _dream_  of acquiring.

“Not good, mate,” Liam chuckles, forcing Harry to return his gaze to the lad’s face. “Socks get shabby real quick. It’s good to have a rather large collection.” He offers a genuine smile then, hoping Harry will relax a little.

Harry nods and lets his shoulders droop, reassured by the act of kindness. “Yeah, I know, but my mum told me to make sure I wanted to stay on the team before stocking up,” he responds, not oblivious to how Niall freezes and takes a long glance at him from under his eyelashes.

“Do you always listen to your mum?” The blonde asks.

Harry gulps and nods. “Of course.”

“And you’re in year..?” Niall trails off, standing up with his things and looking down on Harry.

He isn’t much taller than the other lad; probably won’t have _any_  height on him by the end of the season. Harry still has some awkward preteen chub on him from where his body hasn’t filled out completely, is the thing, but his arms and legs are considerably long and lanky, which gives away the impression that he just hasn’t completely ridden out his growth spurt.

Harry gulps and stumbles a little, clearly intimidated. “I’m in year ten,” He murmurs. Niall looks him up and down once more, nodding. “That explains a lot.”

When Niall leaves, Harry lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. It’s not that Niall scares him; the blonde is actually one of the least frightening people that Harry has ever met.

The younger boy just worries that he won’t be good enough for everyone else, and that he won’t make any friends. He doesn’t want this year to be like all of the other dreadful ones in primary school. Harry is determined to avoid being the loner who is forced to eat his lunch in the toilets.

A heavy sigh from Liam brings Harry back to the present and the younger boy begins stuttering out apologies, completely taking the blame for Niall’s leave. Maybe if he says sorry now, Liam won’t hate him like Niall does. Besides, one mate is better than none, right?

“Harry,” Liam says, stopping the boy’s rambling by placing a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to apologize.” He hands over Harry’s socks and shrugs his shoulders. “Niall is a proper twat sometimes.”

Harry looks off in the direction Niall left, still feeling a bit guilty. “Is he okay though?”

“Of course,” Liam says, taking his hand off of Harry’s shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about, mate. He’ll be fine. Say, why don’t you have lunch with us tomorrow?” He turns around and collects his things for the showers, the sticky sweat on his skin becoming rather annoying. “I can wait for you outside the cafeteria if you want.”

Harry smiles at that, every previous doubt in his mind fleeing. He can’t even begin to describe the immense joy he feels from being offered such a generous thing. For once in his life, he isn’t going to be alone.

“Yeah, I— that sounds brilliant.”

Liam returns his smile, lightly pushing past Harry, who has to take a seat before he does something stupid like faint.

//

After showering and snapping at some more people on his way out of the locker room, Niall begins his routine walk to the bus stop in front of his school, in need of a cheap ride home. He has an automobile, but often finds that filling it with fuel is a lot more costly then paying a couple bucks for a ten minute bus ride.

The public transport isn’t so bad anyway, aside from the smell of dirty shoes and stale crisps that always wafts through the thick air.

Seats aren’t too comfy either, but Niall makes due. It

 typically isn’t too crowded, so most of the time he’s able to snag a window seat, which ensures a cool breeze to blow away the unusual smell. He also fancies looking out when they go over the Brighton Bridge, always admiring the glistening water below, and, if it’s cold enough, the icy blanket of frozen lake.

Between the loud music blaring in his ears and the fact that his eyes are solely trained on the way his converse look moving on the pavement, Niall isn’t even aware of the person standing in his usual spot in front of the bus stop bench. It’s only when his body collides with said person’s that Niall realizes he should probably be looking where he’s going, instead of down at his feet. He’s just thankful that the object he hit was a person and not something dangerous, like a _bus_.

“Oops, my bad.”

Niall looks up to see the same lad that he had bumped into in the locker room, a neutral look on his face while the bloke’s mouth forms words that the blonde can’t hear.

Niall quicky rips his earbuds out, just missing the end of the lad’s sentence.

“What was that?” He asks, and the boy’s adorable giggle sounds out around them, caressing Niall’s ears and making his skin prickle.

_ Weird. _

 

“I said that I was sorry, mate. Dropped my sweets all over your shoes.”

Sure enough, Niall looks down and sees several little gummy candies around his feet, and the sugary whiteness they’re usually covered in is all over Niall’s black high tops. He looks back up and wants to be angry, wants to yell at the boy for being so careless, but Louis is bending down and dusting the sour particles away before Niall can even part his lips.

It’s strange seeing someone do such a thing. Even though he would never admit it, the whole thing was Niall’s fault. If he had only been watching where he was going, they never would have collided (again), and Louis wouldn’t be on the ground in front of him and, yeah, this is terribly awkward.

“Sorry again, mate. I probably shouldn’t have just been standing there,” Louis says, grinning up at Niall. “There’s a bench for a reason, yeah?”

The blonde can only think to nod as Louis looks back down and wipes the remaining dust away. He winces as he stands back up, and Niall feels a sudden rush of sympathy for the boy. He’s new on the team, so he probably wasn’t prepared for today. To be fair, _none_  of the were, but it's always a bit harder for the rookies.

“Work yourself too hard?” It’s the first time Niall’s allowed himself to speak since he asked Louis to repeat himself, and it comes out sounding so strange, so he clears his throat again as Louis giggles.

The guy actually fucking _giggles_.

“Just haven’t been with such a tough coach before,” Louis says, shrugging. “Hell of a one, isn’t he?”

Niall chuckles, still a bit put–off, but nods in agreement. “Yeah.”

“What’s up with those crazy hurdles you guys were jumping?” Louis asks, and they both end up laughing, but for real this time. “Aren’t those for the track team? I didn’t know footballers needed to know how to clear other players on the field.”

Niall laughs loudly at that, like full–blown cackles, and Louis smiles so big that his eyes crinkle up at the sides.

He can’t imagine how their conversation transitioned so quickly. How do you go from awkward small talk and wiping sour sugar off of an almost stranger’s shoes, to laughing and offering banter to the same person, who doesn’t exactly seem like so much of a stranger anymore?

Niall let’s out a shaky breath and stops laughing altogether, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He has to look away for a moment because Louis is looking at him with this happy smile and even _happier_  eyes and he just can't handle it. He’s not used to connecting with people like this.

_Liam_  is the only one allowed to see this side of Niall.

Thankfully, the bus decides to pull up and save the blonde from having to make up some lame excuse to get away from Louis. It would more thank likely have led to Niall having to walk home before his transportation arrived, which wouldn’t be too good on his wonky knee. It would suck if he had to take an ice bath and prolong his much needed sleep.

“Well, um, maybe we should, you know—”

“Yeah,” Louis says, moving forward at the same time as Niall, pressing right up against his chest.

The blonde blushes and moves away quickly, motioning for Louis to go first. His face is flushed and his heart is beating erratically and why the _fuck_  is he so damn flustered?

Niall quickly decides to blame it on the adrenaline that’s still pumping through his veins from his earlier practice, not wanting to think about how cute Louis looks with a blush on his cheeks.

And he _definitely_  doesn’t look down at Louis’ bum as the other lad is climbing the steps, afterwards taking the only empty seat and forcing Niall to sit beside him, their thighs pressed together even as the blonde keeps as close to the aisle as possible.

 

 

**word count: 2,366**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Here's another update that I hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible, but I'm not making any promises. ;) hahahahha
> 
> Anyway, make sure you leave some feedback below and let me know how you're liking the story. Who's your favorite character and why?
> 
> Much love xx


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

 

**Chapter three**

As soon as Louis steps over the threshold of his home, he is immediately bombarded by his four sisters and their screeching calls of his name. The two littlest ones, Daisy and Phoebe, latch onto his legs and begin making goofy faces up at the feather-haired lad, all the while Félicité and Charlotte attempt to simultaneously complain about their horrible days at school.

The oldest girls' words mesh together annoyingly to form a huge cloud of word vomit, and Louis has to try extra hard not to cover his ears and tell them to sod off because, well, they're all still young and sensitive to stuff like that, especially when it comes to Louis; their big, strong, hero of a brother.

"Girls! Girls!" He says, chuckling slightly as he attempts to walk forward with the twins still wrapped around his legs. "Calm down."

" _Calm down_ ," Daisy mimics him, grinning deviously up at Louis. The front right tooth is missing from her mouth, making it all the more funny.

"At least let me sit down first!" He complains.

_"Let me sit down first."_

"Daisy."

"Louis."

"Stop."

"Stop."

"Mum!"

Their mother, Johanna, walks in at that exact same moment, a plate of brownies in her hands and a smile on her face. She's got this tired look about her that even her big grin can't disguise, but Louis can still see the happiness in her eyes as she looks over each of her children.

"Get off of your brother, girls," she says, placing the brownies on the dining room table. "Come eat some of the brownies you pestered me into making for you."

The twins shriek in excitement and detach themselves from Louis, rushing to get their hands on some of the chocolate delicacies.

If there is anything that can get their attention off of messing with their big brother, it's sweets. Brownies and muffins are Johanna's way of bribing the little girls to behave.

Louis isn't much into baked goods, so he declines the offer, instead plucking an apple from their fruit bowl. Besides, he doubts he would be able to squeeze in between his rotten little sisters and snatch one without losing a finger.

"Lou," Jay addresses him, taking a seat and wiping her forehead with the dishrag she keeps thrown over her shoulder. "How was your first day on the team?"

Louis takes a bite from his apple, shrugging his shoulders. "It was good. The coach is a little tough, but I think I'll be able to handle it," he says.

Johanna hums a little and picks at her nails. "And what about the other boys? Are they nice to you?" She asks.

Louis tilts his head and thinks for a moment. He hadn't really talked much with any of the other boys during practice. There was that one bloke, Harry, who he spoke to during the team's water break, but Louis hadn't really been interested in that exchange.

Harry was a cute lad, but shy and quiet and awkward; something that Louis doesn't look for in a guy.

The curly-haired lad had attempted to flirt with him as they wholeheartedly chugged their drinks, desperate for relief from their high body temperatures, but Louis ignored his attempts. He just happens to have a very specific type, and Harry didn't appear to be an applicable male for him to crush on.

To say the least, their conversation didn't last very long.

Then there was Niall, whom Louis had two interactions with. Their conversations were brought on in awkward ways, but felt much more comfortable than the short one he shared with Harry.

Louis can't help but prominently remember the bus ride in which Niall and he spent the whole ten minutes to Louis' home with their thighs and shoulders pressed together, and his cheeks blaze.

Johanna notices his embarrassment and guffaws at the pink tint on her son's cheeks. A wave of protectiveness washes over her.

"What's his name, then?" She asks, a teasing smile on her face and a dull ache in her heart.

Louis' eyes get wide at his mom's words and, if it's even possible, his cheeks get even pinker.

"Mum!" he shrieks, nearly dropping his apple as he fidgets under his mother's calm gaze.

"What?" Jay asks, chuckling a little. "You're as red as a tomato! You can't tell me there isn't a boy involved."

His frantic response reminds Jay that, even though her son is in secondary school crushing on strange boys, he still has that certain bashful, innocence about him that she's always loved. Jay just isn't ready for all of the last firsts to be taken away from her precious son. She doesn't want Louis to have his first boyfriend and his first kiss and his first heartbreak yet.

She isn't ready for him to grow up and experience those things.

"There isn't a _boy_ involved," Louis says quickly, shouldering his rucksack.

 _"Lou._ "

"I'm being serious!" He exclaims, turning to walk away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to, erm- do homework!"

He then speedwalks away from the dining room, hearing a shout of " _this isn't over, mister_ " as he hurriedly climbs the stairs that lead to his bedroom on the second floor. He almost trips on the red carpet under his feet, but catches himself and rushes into his room.

When he's in the safety of his bedroom, with the door closed and locked so his little sisters won't interrupt his private thinking time, Louis lets out a long breath and closes his eyes.

He knows that his mother is fully aware of the fact that he is gay, but he wishes she wouldn't make such embarrassing comments about it.

It never used to be a problem when she thought he was _straight._ Louis thinks she just pesters him about boys to show that she's okay with his sexual orientation, but it usually just leaves Louis feeling very awkward and unappreciative of her efforts.

He knows his mum means the best, but he just wishes she would act more oblivious towards his personal love life.

After drowning in his embarrassment for another five minutes, Louis finally opens his eyes and steps away from his bedroom door, abandoning it's support. He walks over to his bed and flops down onto it's surface, groaning into the sheets.

He's got algebra homework, but makes no effort to reach into his rucksake to retrieve it.

Louis is an A plus student, but that doesn't mean that he enjoys doing his homework any more than the kids who attend school simply so that they can smoke behind the building with their mates and graffiti the locker rooms. The lad is actually a very stern believer in the idea that homework is a waste of time.

The way he sees it, Louis goes to school for eight hours a day, works his little heart out, and listens to his teachers endless lectures so that he can pass all of his classes with high marks. In his opinion, he shouldn't be expected to go home and do even _more_ work _after_ school.

If Louis understands everything he is taught and aces all of his tests and quizzes, what's the point in bothering to do homework? Most of the time, Louis just copies his friends' papers last minute.

The feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket disrupts Louis' lounging and he groans, pulling it out of his tight jeans. He is surprised to see an unknown number when he checks the screen, but answers it anyway.

"Hello?"

_"Erm.. hi, Louis."_

Louis furrows his brows and sits up in bed. He's definitely heard the voice before.

"Who is this?" He asks.

_"Um, it's Niall."_

Louis' eyes widen and he feels his face heat up.

_No wonder the voice sounded familiar._

"Oh, um.. _hi."_

Louis mentally slaps himself for sounding so strange, mouthing curse words at himself. Leave it to him to make a complete _tit_ of himself the one time that a cute boy decides to call him.

Niall probably thinks he's such a loser. Louis had been pretty confident around him during their earlier encounters, but that was before he bumped into Niall's chest and felt the blond's taught muscles and erratic heartbeat as light blushes covered both of their cheeks.

Louis had become hopeful then.

He figured that the blush on Niall's cheeks could only mean one thing; that he was suddenly crushing on Louis as well. His hopes had risen even higher when Niall sat next to him on the bus, extremely close to him because Louis made sure to keep a respectable distance between the window and himself.

Still yet, Louis can't help but wonder why Niall is calling him, or how he even got his number in the first place. He knows he shouldn't care because, well, a hot, _fit_ bloke is taking the time out of his day to talk to Louis, of all people.

It just seems rather strange.

"W-why are you calling me?" Louis asks.

He closes his eyes in frustration due to his stutter, pinching his own thigh. _Jesus_.

"You, uh- you dropped your notebook on the bus today," Niall explains. "It had your number written on the inside cover, so I thought I'd call you up to tell you I found it. That's what the instructions you wrote said to do, anyway."

A lighthearted chuckle floats through the line and Louis flushes, biting his lip at the sound.

"Well, uh.. thanks."

_Jesus Christ. Why is he such an awkward knob?_

"Do you want to meet up at school tomorrow so you can give it back to me?" The brunette forces out, gulping.

There is a long pause and Louis worries his bottom lip with his teeth.

Niall probably thought the suggestion was stupid. Why would _he_ , a popular and well-known senior, want to be seen with a dumb tenth year like Louis?

"I mean, if that's okay. You could always just leave it by my locker on your own time," Louis is quick to add.

"No, no, it's no problem. I can meet up with you," Niall says, and Louis sighs in relief.

The pause is still nagging at his mind though.

"So, um, where do you want to meet up? And when?" Louis asks.

"Uh.. how about during lunch? You have third, right?"

"Yeah."

"Cool!" Niall exclaims. "I trust that you know where I sit? All of the other guys sit around there, so it shouldn't be too hard to find."

Louis blushes and pictures himself walking up to Niall's table with all of the blond's friends around. He's on the same football team as all of them, but he is nowhere _near_ as close to each member as Niall is. He can only imagine how awkward the exchange will be.

"Yeah, I know the table," Louis says, regardless. "That sounds good."

"Good," Niall responds. "You know, you should come sit with us too since you're on the team and everything. Liam invited that Harry bloke, I think. You were talking to him during break today, yeah? The two of you are friends, I assume."

"No, I- well, I don't know," Louis rambles, flushing. "We talked, but we aren't exactly _friends_."

He's just shocked that Niall was actually looking at him long enough to notice that he talked to Harry during their break. His eyes were on the fit blond for the majority of practice, but he had no idea that the staring was mutual.

Niall laughs again over the line and Louis blushes, once again. He could get used to hearing that noise.

"Well, you should definitely still sit with us," Niall says. "You can sit beside me so everyone will know who invited you."

"Yeah, I- that sounds good."

"Great! Well, I'm gonna go do some chores now. Mum is forcing me to do dishes," Niall speaks through the line, groaning.

Louis giggles a little, his leg bobbing up and down extremely fast. The tremor of the limb sort of matches the pace of his heartbeat, which is so erratic Louis thinks the organ may beat right out of his chest.

"Awe, that sucks."

"Yeah," Niall sighs. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Lou. Have a nice evening, and don't forget to find me at lunch."

"I won't," Louis responds. "Goodnight, Niall."

"Goodnight, mate."

With that, Louis ends the call and falls back onto his pillows.

He can't believe that just happened.

Niall Horan _called_ him. Niall Horan called _Louis_.

The brunette smiles largely and turns over on his bed so that his face is shoved deep into his pillows. He screams excitedly into the soft cushions, the sound being muffled by the feather-filled cases.

Suddenly, there is a loud bang on his door and Louis jumps up quickly, embarrassed. Then he remembers that he locked it and no one can get in.

Thank _God_ nobody actually saw the freak attack that he just had.

Louis rolls his eyes, smoothing out his shirt as he makes his way to his bedroom door.

It's probably just the girls coming to bug him again. It's sometimes hard for the wee things to understand that Louis isn't exactly interested in the same activities as them.

Louis doesn't know how many tea parties and fashion shows that he's had to endure simply because his little sisters can't understand that he doesn't like playing with barbies and stuffed animals.

The brunette opens his door, surprised to see his mother standing there, a clothes basket in her hands.

"Here's your laundry, Lou," She says, offering him the clothes. "I heard screaming. Are you okay?"

Louis blushes, taking the basket and placing it beside of his door. He doesn't let his mother in, biting his lip and looking behind him as if there is something to hide.

Jay just cocks an eyebrow, a knowing look finding its way onto her face. She can clearly see the blush on her son's face.

"Lou?"

"Yeah- no, everything's great," Louis says, shaking his head. "Just finishing up some homework."

Jay nods slowly, backing away.

"Oh, okay. I'll leave you to that then," she says. "Love you."

"Love you too," Louis squeaks.

His bedroom door closes after that and Jay giggles a little, shaking her head as she makes her way back downstairs.

 _There is **definitely** a boy involved_.

**Word Count: 2,397**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update! ♡
> 
> Chapter question: Do you think Louis' crush is going to get him hurt?
> 
> Hope you enjoy! xx Sorry the Authors note wasn't any longer.


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